


Cold Cold Man

by lemnerd



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Laura Hale, Angst, BAMF Stiles, Beta Derek Hale, Dystopian, F/M, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gerard Argent is president of the USA, Literally about to die everyday, M/M, On the Run, Scott is Part of the Hale Pack, Stiles is a Naiad, Supernatural Cleansing, Will add more tags once I figure out what I’m doing, yeah i know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-04-08 09:39:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14102622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemnerd/pseuds/lemnerd
Summary: As soon as Gerard Argent was elected as president, he called for a controlled massacre, a ‘cleansing’ of all the supernatural beings living in the United States.Stiles is one of them. And he is not going down without a fight.(He also happens to fall in love with a surly, dark werewolf along the way.)-Title is from the song ‘Cold Cold Man’ by Saint Motel





	1. Gunshot Orchestra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prelude
> 
> Trigger Warning: there is mention and implication of sexual assault in this chapter. Procede with care and stay safe.

“ _Goddammit_ , Scott!” he screams, kicking through shrubbery, trying to calm his heartbeat and lungs. Fuck, he is going to actually die.

The werewolf in question, shifted, is running a few paces behind him. With Scott’s speed, he could easily surpass Stiles by a few miles, but there are Hunters and a military tank on their asses. They have to stick together. The last thing they want to do is lose each other.

Stiles is not a Dryad or Fae, but he can tell that the trees are _shit-scared_. And boy, so is he. One minute, he and Scott were spending the night on the shrubbery floor, the next, he had to awake to the sound of a gunshot.

He can see the tank coming closer.

He can hear shouts and screams from the Hunters.

“Scott. I can’t- keep going. I can’t run anymore.” his lungs are both full and empty.

“Stiles.” is the only thing Scott says before gripping his arm and picking up the pace. Stiles’ legs burn so badly but he has to keep going. He has never ran this fast in his life. He remembers skipping through these same woods when he was younger, running with Scott for an entirely different reason than this one.

A high-pitched sound screeches through the air. Scott slows and falters, but doesn’t stop. Stiles notices the way his friend’s claws are gone, eyes have stopped burning gold and there is a limp in his side.

Scott has been shot by a Wolfsbane bullet.

“Scott. Scott - are you. Are you okay. Oh my _God_.”

They still entirely and Scott falls to the floor.

“Let me see. Let me _see_ , dammit!” The werewolf rolls weakly on his side, revealing a wound the size of his fist. Stiles holds his breath, kneels on the floor quickly and tries to shield Scott from any harm as much as possible. His best friend and brother is going to die right here on the forest floor.

“How can I… I can’t- Scott, stay with me!” Stiles can feel tears in his eyes. Freshwater tears.

Scott clutched weakly to the other boy’s shirt, with a weak, “Go, Stiles.” Stiles cannot leave Scott to die. The very thought of that happening to him makes bile climb up to the back of his throat. He can’t lose his mother, father and now Scott. He has to find a way to get out of this fucking mess, before - before Scott fucking dies and it’s all his fault.

Then he remembers something - the very reason as to why he and his friend would play in these woods.

The stream.

He steadies his breathing.

“Okay, buddy. It’s - it’s going t-to be okay.” He anchors himself, and pushes Scott’s limp body as hard as he can.

It doesn’t budge.

He screams. “Come _on_!” he cries, pushing and pushing has hard as he can. He manages moving Scott only a few feet of distance before the tank sounds too close.

“Freeze.” a cold voice comes from behind him.

Stiles quickly wipes his tears, stands up and turns around, his hands raised. A Hunter points a gun at his head.

“You’re not one for first impressions, are you?” Stiles says. He tries as discretely as possible to kick Scott’s body with his feet.

“Quick tongue, feminine, young. This one’s a Fae.” another Hunter says.

Stiles resists the urge to laugh. A _Fae_? “You Hunters sure know a lot about us.” he tries to keep his tone neutral.

The one with the gun against Stiles’ head says, “There’s an iron bullet in this gun, so I suggest you stop running your pretty mouth.”

Trying not to shiver with disgust, he says, “I know you’re not actually going to kill me. You kill ‘monsters’. Lycanthrope, Vampires, Kanima, anything that doesn’t look pretty. What you do with my kind, though, is so, _so_ much worse.”

The Hunter simply smiles.

Stiles finally gets Scott’s body rolling towards the stream. The Hunters pay no attention to that, probably assuming Scott’s dead. When Scott’s body falls into the stream, Stiles feels it in his veins.

Scott’s safe. Now he has a little situation of his own to get out of.

“What’s your name, little one?” The gun yielder, presumably the leader, asks. Stiles snorts.

“Tinkerbell. ‘Bell’ for short.”

The Hunter cocks his gun for, like, the seventh time. Stiles yawns.

“I don’t appreciate-“

“Are we done? No, seriously. Are we done? I was running away and I thought, ‘hey, these Hunters are going to rape and kill me.’ but since you’re just here to have a conversation, get on with the-”

The leader shoots his iron bullet into Stiles’ leg.

Stiles falls to the floor.

Someone says, “He’s not burning. I guess he’s not Fae after all.”

Stiles laughs.

He hears a loud werewolf howl, and blacks out.


	2. You Sting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> allegro

Stiles dreams that he is somewhere green, with briar restraints holding him down against the grass. He tugs and tugs, but can’t seem to get free. He watches his father weep seven tears into a pond and hold his mother. Then he watches his mother get shot between the eyes.

He screams, tugs against the briars and cries and cries. “Mom! Mom!”

Just as quickly as his mother vanishes, a young woman with blonde hair and pink lips grins as she strikes a match. A large house burns up in flames. Screams and cries come from the house. A boy with moonstone eyes looks stricken.

“Hey! You’re okay. They’re gone. Wake up.” a voice says harshly.

“Let me handle this, pup.” another voice, a voice that reminds him of the river, says. “Hey, Tinkerbell. It’s okay. Wake up.”

Stiles’ eyes blink open.

A girl sits above him, one with beautiful dark hair and moonstone eyes. Stiles sits up. His leg aches.

“Who are you. Don’t- don’t touch me. If you’re a Hunter. Are you a Hunter?” Stiles’ voice is surprisingly hoarse.

The girl gives him a breathtaking smile. “No, I’m Laura Hale.”

”Oh,” Stiles says, like it all makes sense. Like he has any idea who the hell Laura Hale is. “Cool.” 

Then he’s passing out again.

Deep in his veins, he feels Scott’s heartbeat.

 

***

 

“I just don’t understand what the hell we’re doing with a nymph, Laura!” a voice much, much later says.

“He saved my beta, Derek.” the river voice returns.

“A beta we didn’t even know existed until literally an hour ago!” this ‘Derek’ guy returns.

Another voice comes in, “Why are you paying the nymph so much attention, Derek? Do you like him? I don’t blame you. Slavic boys have very pretty cheekbones."

That definitely jolts Stiles into full consciousness. He sits up fast and groans in pain at his leg. He can’t see anything, it’s too dark, but he knows that all eyes on him. Before he can begin to even start to ask where the hell he is and what happened, someone pulls him into a hug.

”Stiles.” Scott says.

Stiles can’t breathe as he’s flooded with relief.

“Scott. You’re okay. Oh my god.” he hugs back as tight as he can. Scott is alive. After Wolfsbane poisoning and — wait.

Stiles pulls away. “Scott, not that I’m not happy to see you, brother, but how the hell are you alive?”

Scott smiles. Stiles can hear it in his voice. “My pack saved me.”

Someone surly, Derek, says, “We’re not your pack.”

“Totally ruined the moment, dude.” Stiles says. Derek growls in response.

Stiles backpedals.

“Wait... who are you?! What the fuck!”

Theres a dim light that appears and it’s enough for Stiles to see the girl - Laura Hale - holding a small reading light in her palm. He spots a creepy looking man looking at him inappropriately and an extremely attractive boy with moonstone eyes, that looks like he wants to kill him. There are other people, too. They’re all just... staring at him. He looks around and appears to be in a large, creepy wooden barn kind of thing. It’s so ugly, and unsafe, how can anyone manage to live in this place? He notices the creepy symbols on the walls and cringes.

Stiles blinks multiple times, “Is this— am I... is this a cult?”

Everyone just stares at Stiles for a few seconds.

And then Laura laughs so hard, she falls back and drops the reading light and he can see some others - a blonde boy and girl - snickering.

But moonstone-eyed boy looks unamused and unimpressed.

Stiles thinks back to what Scott said earlier. “Pack... you’re a Werewolf pack, aren’t you?”

Laura’s eyes dissolve from moonstone to red. Alpha.

“Yes, Stiles. We’re a Werewolf pack. The Hale Pack. And we just found out that Scott is one of us.”

Stiles’ jaw drops. His gaze turns to Scott, who looks... strange. “Woah, woah, woah! Can we go back a little? How— what.. I mean, is it - how do you know?”

The blond, curly haired boy starts speaking. “We found Scott in the river—”

“Stream.”

The boy stops, blinking at Stiles. “I... what?”

“It’s a stream, not a river. Sorry. Continue.” Stiles makes a vague hand gesture.

The corner of the boy’s mouth turns up in a pretty smile. “Are you a water spirit?” he asks, leaning in closely.

Stiles smirks back, leaning in a tiny, tiny bit. “Am I?”

The boy looks at his lips.

“Isaac. Stop that. Oh my God.” Laura is pinching the bridge of her nose.

Isaac looks at Stiles with a shrug before moving away from him, sitting with an innocent expression.

The other betas look extremely uncomfortable, except for the creepy guy. He actually looks like he had enjoyed it.

Stiles shivers.

“Stiles is a Naiad.” Scott says, helpfully. “He enchanted the stream to heal me from the poisoning. The stream gave me enough strength to howl, and then you found me.”

“And then we came because Laura thought it was one of her betas, and then we saved yours and his life. Can you leave now?” The attractive guy says in Derek’s voice.

Laura looks at Derek warningly. Then in a soft voice, she asks, “Scott, how did you get bitten?”

“Uh. Stiles and I were walking around a few years ago in a preserve. I can’t remember it, exactly, but it did have lots of briars.”

Stiles holds his breath. Derek looks at him.

“I got bitten, by a rouge Alpha. Then my boss, who is a Druid, taught me control and everything. And it just went from there. But there’s - I don’t. I don’t think—”

Derek rolls his eyes, “Okay, so then you’re not part of our pack. Laura’s not the rouge Alpha that bit you. Problem solved, now get out of my den before I rip your throat out with my—”

“The thing is,” Laura cuts in, visibly paler than she was before, “that it _was_ me that bit you that night in the preserve, Scott.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh 2 chapters in one day man I have so many ideas for this fic !!


	3. Bodyache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mezzo-piano

Stiles learns that moonstone eyes run in the family. Derek is also a Hale, Laura’s brother. The creepy guy is their uncle, Peter Hale. He assumes that the rest of their family was killed by the Hunters.

He notices that the Hales do not refer to them as Hunters, but simply as soldiers. They must have lost their family before the regime started. Before Argent was elected as president and renamed the military. There’s something odd in the way they explain themselves, as though they’re not telling the complete truth. Scott will tell him later whether there was a blip in Laura’s heartbeat or not.

  
Laura tells her betas to leave her to talk with Stiles and Scott separately. The betas then leave her be, but Stiles knows they’re listening. Laura explains how she was mourning her family in the preserve, heavily intoxicated and must have bitten Scott due to the intoxication.

Stiles gives Laura a look. He doesn’t believe her one bit.

“I’m surrounded by werewolves,” she reasons, “they know whether I’m lying or not.”

Somehow, that doesn’t help Laura’s case.

“Okay, so if you’re not lying, now we know who ruined Scott’s life. Now we know the person who caused him to almost die today. And yesterday. And every day before that, just because he’s a werewolf. Because you decided to walk around drunk and make bad decisions, the U.S military want to kill my brother.” He spits with as much venom as he can muster. “And after all of that, you left him alone for years, for him to wonder what the fuck was happening to him. So hats off to you, you bitch. Come on, Scott. We’re leaving.”

Stiles stands, leg wobbling. He’s not going to show how much his leg hurts.

Scott looks hesitant but Stiles knows he will follow. Stiles starts walking through the damp, old barn until he bumps into something unexplainably warm.

“You’re going the wrong way.” Derek says and oh shit, he just bumped into the guy that wants to kill him.

All Stiles manages is a weak “...huh?”

“You’re leaving. The exit is that way.” a muscular arm gestures in the opposite direction that Stiles was walking.

God. If Derek could hear when Stiles said he was leaving, Stiles is sure Derek can hear how fast his heart is beating right now.

“This is... this - this is such a weird barn.” Stiles says.

Derek looks like he wants to smile, then smothers it with a carefully leveled glare. ”You and your friend get out of here. If you give our location to anyone,” he sprouts claws and pressed them to Stiles’ throat, “I’m going to rip your throat out. Got it?”

Stiles manages a weak nod. Derek looks satisfied. His hands return to normal and he fixes Stiles’ jacket, checking him.

Stiles raises an eyebrow, calms his shaky hands and fixes Derek’s jacket right back.

Derek glares at him murderously.

“Okay! I get it! God.” Stiles hurries off to the exit, grabbing Scott, whose eyes seem fixated on the floor.

He manages a weak “bye!” before he stumbles out. Looking at the building, he blinks.

”This isn’t a barn,” Stiles says, staring at what appears to be a warehouse.

Scott doesn’t reply.

***

They trek for around twenty minutes, Scott listening out for danger and Stiles following his senses back to the stream he pushed the werewolf into. He finds it without fail. 

“That will never not be cool, man.” Scott says, but it lacks enthusiasm.

Stiles pulls out the knife he keeps in his shoe and rips off a piece of his shirt, drenching it in the water of the stream. He knows his eyes are changing color, from amber to pale blue and wills the water to help him heal. He then pulls off his jeans and presses the piece of cloth to his leg and sighs at the cool freshwater soothing and healing his wound.

“Do you need me to take the pain?” Scott asks.

Stiles watches as the sun rises. He wonders what time it is. He shakes his head at his friend. “No. Are you going to tell me what’s wrong with you?”

Scott gives him a smile that cracks in the middle. “Dude, nothing’s wrong.”

“Scott.”

“Its just,” Scott’s voice sounds shaky. “I’ve... it’s. I’ve always thought that I’d been bitten for a reason. Something significant, you know? And I’d been studying and reading up on werewolves and trying to understand as much as I could because I thought it was a gift. A blessing.”

Stiles’ eyes narrow. “Why would you—”

“Because it _changed_ me, Stiles. I could run more than a few meters without having an asthma attack, I was good at lacrosse, I was less lanky. People noticed me. _Allison_ noticed me.”

Stiles sucks in a breath at the mention of Allison.

“I was noticed by _the president’s granddaughter_ , Stiles. I _dated_ the president’s granddaughter. I was cool. I was popular.”

Stiles feels furious. “Don’t you dare make all of this, the running away, the starving, the killings, the homelessness, the loneliness, the lack of a real life, not valid just because you managed to hook up with an Argent.”

Scott glares, “She wasn’t a hookup, Stiles.”

“My point still fucking stands. Your kind is being killed, tortured every day - _by_ Allison’s grandfather, might I add. Don’t you dare call this a blessing. If you weren’t bitten, you’d be living a normal fucking life, going to a normal fucking school, like a normal fucking teenager. I’d give everything for that. This ‘blessing’ is the reason my mother is dead, Scott.”

Scott grows quiet. Stiles pulls his jeans back on.

“Come on. We need to leave this place.” Stiles says.

“What did,” Scott starts, “I mean. Do you think that Laura was telling the truth?”

Stiles grabs Scott’s hand and lets the werewolf pull him onto his feet. 

“I don’t know. What did your ears tell you? Or your super-sniffer. Did you think she was lying?”

They begin their journey, walking in close proximity. Scott seems very tense.

Their hands still locked together, Scott says, “Her heartbeat was steady... too steady, Stiles. Like she was making an effort to keep it that way. I think she was lying.”


	4. Earthwire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> andante

Walking.

That’s all they’ve been doing for hours. Stiles would be thoroughly exhausted, if it weren’t for the stream constantly supplying freshwater. Scott, though. Scott actually is thoroughly exhausted. He keeps stopping and sticking his head in the stream for a drink, complaining of thirst and hunger.

He had even asked to go hunt a squirrel or something, but Stiles declined. It’s not safe, he had reasoned. There are Hunters at every edge of the woods.

“We need a bottle to collect some of this water in.” Stiles says, thinking. Freshwater would be very useful, and not just for drinking. He could use it if either of them had an injury or as a weapon against an enemy.

After sticking his head down and drinking for the umpteenth time, Scott says, “Yeah. We’ll find a bottle, don’t worry. People usually throw their trash in rivers and stuff.”

Stiles’ heart sinks. “Yeah.”

They keep walking.

Scott’s nostrils flare. His Wolf senses probably picking up Stiles’ emotions. But whatever he can smell, he doesn’t comment on it.

Stiles is grateful for that.

***  
Several hours later, after a run-in with Hunters, Stiles clutches his hip weakly. He’s propped up against a big rock and Scott is taking his pain with one hand, eyes wild with panic.

“Man, of all the places to shoot someone,” Stiles says, “why the hip? It’s dangerously close to people’s private regions. Hey, imagine if the guy missed and I got shot in the dick. That would actually be hilarious. And then, like, me having to explain it and being like, ‘I took a bullet to the dick’. Oh, wow, that really sounds like some sort of sexual euphemism. I’m not sure—“

“Stiles.” Scott says, eyes full of tears but a sad smile on his face. “Stop talking about sex. You’re bleeding out.”

Stiles smiles softly and remembers his mom. Like a river, everything lead back to her. Where he got his real name, his ADHD, his love for food, his supernatural abilities, his life, and now his death. He remembers when everything was so simple, when his family kept him as far away from freshwater as possible and raised him to be a boy, not a creature. When Argent killing people and it was considered monstrous, not justice-driven.

When Gerard Argent didn’t kiss babies and woo old women into voting for him. A time before his father turned on the TV and fainted at the news.

A time before eleven-year-old Stiles opened his front door for the president, shook his very hand and watch as he pulled out a gun and pull the trigger at his mother’s head.

“I love you, Scott.” Stiles says.

“I love you.” Scott says back, repeating it over and over as a promise.

At least he isn’t dying at the feet of a Hunter who would misuse his body. He’s dying in the arms of his brother.

His brother who is currently lifting and carrying him like a bride.

“What... what are you doing?” Stiles barely notices where he is right now. The pain feels far away and he can feel himself slipping under.

And then Scott’s running. Fast. Stiles has seen Scott run for his life, but not nearly as fast as this.

Scott runs really fast. Huh.

Everything is a flurry of movement before Scott suddenly stops, harsh breathing.

“I need to pee,” Stiles says.

Scott looks at him with incredulity. “You need to pee?” There’s something different about his voice.

“Yeah, Scott. My bladder is full. It doesn’t help that I can hear water flowing.”

Scott looks like he wants to kill Stiles. “That’s because we’re near a lake, Stiles.”

“Oh. Sweet.”

Scott carefully sets Stiles down and suddenly the pain is back with a roar. Stiles screams and Scott quickly puts two cupped hands near his mouth.

“Drink.” Scott says.

“I told you we should’ve gotten a bottle—“

“ _Drink_.” there’s a command in his voice that Stiles has never, ever heard before.

Just as Stiles starts lapping at the freshwater with his tongue, instantly feeling soothe his pain, a series of painful howls come close from the trees and Scott looks panicked. He picks Stiles’ body up and places it in the lake so that Stiles is safe. Scott then walks a few paces away from the river, facing the direction where the sound came from.

“Scott? Scott, what’s- what’s happening?” Stiles asks, hoarse.

Then there are quick footsteps, a loud growl, Scott’s voice going frantic and then Scott’s body comes barreling backwards, falling into the lake. Someone grabs at Stiles’ shirt and starts punching the shit out of his face, pain sprouting in sharp bursts. Stiles is going to have a heart attack. Stiles is going to have a fucking heart attack.

Stiles tries to struggle against the stranger who _keeps fucking punching his face oh my God_ , clawing at the hand keeping him suspended in the air, trying to kick this person’s private regions, but decides there’s no use. This person is too strong.

He let’s the punching procede. Fuck it. Jesus, take the wheel.

Apparently, Jesus does take the wheel because there’s another voice, probably Jesus’, yelling “Derek! Derek, stop! Stop it! _Stop_!”

And the stranger, now identified as fucking Derek, _figures_ , stops punching and drops Stiles’ body into the lake. It soothes his bruises and the first thing he does is stand and shove as hard as he can at Derek’s chest.

“What the fuck is your problem! What could have possibly—“

Then he notices a few things.

Firstly, the whole Hale Pack is standing in front of him, all with an expression Stiles knows all too well on their faces. Grief.

Secondly, Isaac, the blonde, curly haired boy is holding a body in his arms. A body with long dark hair. Laura.

Stiles tries not to gasp out an “Oh, my _God_.”

And lastly, the most important detail that everyone is looking at, is the fact that Scott, who is holding back a feral, wolfed out Derek, looks different.

Scott’s eyes are not glowing their usual gold, but a deep red.

Someone, please tell Stiles what the fuck is going on.


	5. Stillness in Woe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> grave

Derek roughly jerks away from Scott as though he’s been burned.

“You!” Derek growls, his voice an octave lower due to his beta shift.

Stiles swallows, looking at Scott. Why are his eyes red? His friend looks just as confused as he is. Scott looks like he’s struggling for words - for an explanation - because he doesn’t have any. Stiles turns his attention to Laura’s body laying limp in Isaac’s arms.

A pang of _something, some sort of negative emotion_ , rumbles deep in Stiles’ chest and he can’t understand _why_.

Stiles doesn’t have any time to ask any questions because Derek is lunging for him again, screaming, growling, shouting. Stiles wills his body to move, but he’s frozen in place, a deer in the headlights. He doesn’t get any of this. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since he’s seen these people. What could have happened in that span of time? More importantly, why is Laura dead? Why is Derek charging for him?

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Derek swipes his claws through the air and Stiles knows he’s going to die.

“Derek! Stop! It’s not him - he didn’t do any of this!” a dark-skinned boy is now running towards him. Stiles doesn’t know this boy, but he can tell that the boy would harvest the moon for Derek.

Stiles’ body finally starts functioning. “Any of what?!” he screams. He looks to Scott for help, but Scott is just staring at his reflection in the lake.

“You killed Laura! You told the soldiers our location!” Derek’s voice cracks in the middle and Stiles then understands.

Hunters must have attacked the Hale Pack and killed... and killed Laura. God. He can’t seem to wrap his head around that. The girl that saved his life yesterday is now dead. Derek probably thinks that after the whole incident in the warehouse, Stiles had went and told Hunters.

Derek is breathing heavily. At first, Stiles thought it’s from exhaustion and fighting, but now it’s obvious. Derek’s hyperventilating.

“It wasn’t... Derek, we didn’t tell _anyone_ , I swear.” his voice cracks. He can’t understand why. “We couldn’t have. I’m sorry for your loss, but it wasn’t to do with us. We didn’t - Scott, buddy, help me out here.”

Scott seems to snap out of it. “Derek, we _couldn’t_ have. Do you seriously think that we could come close to Hunters without getting killed, let alone give them information? It couldn’t have been us, Derek. We’ve been trekking this entire time.”

Derek falls on his knees, looking helpless. “But... I smell them on you.”

“That’s because we had a fight of our own. Stiles got shot. Can’t you smell the blood?”

Derek looks so fucking lost, it hurts Stiles deeply. “Then who...”

The blonde girl, Stiles vaguely remembers her name being Erica, puts a hand on Derek’s shoulder.

“It’s a warehouse loft, Derek. How long would it take before it would be noticed?” the dark boy reasons.

Derek stands, trying to seem casual about it, but Stiles knows that everyone knows how deeply devastated Derek is. And the fact that he came to the wrong person for revenge. He probably feels stupid, too. Stiles may not be a werewolf but he doesn’t need to smell it, he can see it written all over Derek’s face.

“Your eyes. They flashed red.” Derek says, addressing Scott with something like hesitance.

Scott clears his throat. “I don’t... I can’t be an Alpha.”

Oh. Scott is an Alpha. That explains his increased speed and the command in his voice. But how? Scott hasn’t killed any Alphas recently. Scott doesn’t even belong to a Pack where he can rise to power in. There must be some sort of mistake. Stiles glances at Laura’s body, unable to look away. Then everything clicks. Oh my God.

“Oh my God.” Stiles says. “Scott, I think you’re the new Alpha of the Hale Pack.”

Everyone stills, for what feels like minutes. Then Derek is landing a punch on Scott’s face and the Pack starts shouting.

It’s going to be a long night.

***

After the fight was contained, Derek had decided to go for a walk while they have a ‘serious talk’, as the dark boy, Boyd, had called it.

Five minutes into this ‘serious talk’ and it’s mostly just been some sort of derogatory attack on Scott. None of the betas seem happy with the new turn of events. Peter looks like he wants to rip Scott to shreds but stays within listening range of the conversation. Maybe Peter knows something, Stiles thinks. Something that the rest of the Pack, along with Scott and Stiles, don’t know.

“How can you be Laura’s second?! You’re just a kid she bit when she was drunk! She literally hadn’t met you until a few hours ago!” Erica snarls.

“I’m sorry.” Scott actually sounds sincere about it, and Stiles actually scoffs.

“For _what_? None of this is your fault! You can’t control any of this, none of you can! Unless one of you kills him - which I’m not letting any of you do, or God so help me - he’s stuck as Alpha, so deal with it.” Stiles shouts.

Scott flinches.

Isaac speaks up. “We really can’t do anything about this, you guys.”

There’s a sudden sombre mood. Stiles doesn’t understand - why is everyone so fucking upset? Scott will make a great Alpha. Stiles knows it. Scott is caring, kind, incredibly loyal and would risk a bullet for the people he cares about. Scott is totally suitable for the position of an Alpha. Stiles is so absolutely sure of it, he trusts Scott with his whole heart. Then he starts to wonder if the betas think so, too. It’s fair for them not to trust Scott. They literally hadn’t met him until a few hours ago and are now bonded to him and expected to follow his orders.

“You guys were expecting Derek to be your new Alpha if Laura ever passed, weren’t you?” Stiles asks.

Boyd looks silently frustrated, and Erica throws Stiles a look like it’s obvious and he’s stupid. Peter looks bloodthirsty. Peter looks like he’s ready to pounce on Scott at any minute. Scott can definitely sense it too, ready to wolf out and take him.

Peter seems to glance at Scott’s claws at the ready, and gives Scott one wicked smile. “Since I was not given the Alpha position by my ungrateful niece, I believe there is no place for me in the Pack any longer. So, if the rest of you want to put your lives in the hands of a clueless teenager, be my guest.”

Scott sputters as Peter pats him once on the shoulder. Then, without another word, Peter shifts and runs off, deep into the woods.

Stiles gapes. “What... what the fuck, dude! He’s going to get killed. Someone -“

“Leave him.” Derek says, reappearing from his walk, and Stiles jumps.

“You scared—” Then Stiles stops talking, because the expression of grief on Derek’s face strangles him. Stiles wants to say, me too and it hurts to the bone.

Grief has a very distinct look. It’s quite easy to distinguish grief from just sadness. Sadness had a bounce, a change, a variation. Different people look different kinds of sad. But grief - grief. Looks the same on everyone. People who are grieving look like skeletons. Derek’s moonstone eyes look cloudy and indifferent, as though he’s off in a distant world. There’s something about the way he contorts his face that makes Stiles ache. Derek’s still scowling, though, trying to mask his grief with anger.

Derek picks up Laura’s body from his friend’s hold, about to retreat to God knows where. Stiles doesn’t know why, but something makes him speak up.

“Where.” his voice is so raw. He clears his throat. “Where are you going?”

Derek turns to look at him. “I’m going to bury my sister.” he sounds so unsure with himself.

“Where?”

Derek narrows his eyes at the Naiad.

“Sorry, I just, I think. I think I can help.”

Derek turns on his heels and proceeds walking.

Stiles panics. “Derek, chances are that you’re not going to bury her in any old woods. You’re burying her somewhere special, right? It’s probably going to take you a long time to get to the place that you want to get to, and there are Hunters at every edge of the woods and they could—“

“So then _help me_!” Derek suddenly yells. Stiles closes his mouth. He notices all the betas, along with Scott, have left to a different part of the woods, probably to give him and Derek some privacy. Stiles swallows. He needs to get words out.

“You can’t carry her around for so long on a journey, Derek, it’s just not practical.” his voice slips into a calming tone as he notices the distress, the sorrow, the _guilt_ on Derek’s face. He had never imagined a big, bad, scowling and surly man could be capable of feeling such emotions a few hours ago. Now it’s like Derek has been stripped raw.

“Then help me.” This time, Derek’s voice sounds more like a plea, and Stiles nods.

“You can put her in the lake.” he says quietly, watching him tense. “It'll take her where you want her to go.”

“I swear, if you’re—“ Derek starts, a threat on his tongue.

“I can’t lie to you, even if I wanted to. I promise she’ll be safe. I _promise_.” He knows his heartbeat is steady.

Derek looks hesitant.

“The water will preserve her body, so she won’t rot. I’ll make sure to disguise her, so she looks like a current so no one sees a body floating in the water. All the freshwater systems are connecting in California, so I promise you she’ll arrive okay. And I’ll feel it in if something happens.”

Derek breathes in through his nose shakily. “If something goes wrong and you’re lying to me, I fucking swear to God I’ll—“

Stiles smiles sadly. “You’ll rip my throat out. I know.”

Derek smooths Laura’s hair back, kisses her forehead and gingerly starts to lower her body into the water, tenderly. Stiles puts his hands in the water and stops the current from flowing, keeping Laura’s body still in the water.

“One more thing.” Stiles says.

Derek jerks his head to look at the boy. “What?”

“The lake doesn’t know what to do, yet. You need to let it know. You probably won’t like this, but you have to weep seven tears into it.”

Derek glares. “I’m not crying.”

Stiles gives him a look. “I’m sorry, but if you want this to work, you have to.”

There’s a tic in Derek’s jaw as he kneels near Laura’s body. He seems oddly serious for a moment, closing his eyes. Then, he turns to Stiles and just stares.

“What...” Stiles says. Derek’s scowl deepens. “Oh. Oh, right. Sorry.”

Stiles takes the hint and leaves him alone, walking off but not too far off. He kicks around in the rocks and closes his eyes, the realizations hitting him like a train. Laura is dead, and the last thing Stiles did to her was call her a bitch. He suddenly feels a sharp ache in his chest. It’s never a happy ending. It’s never a sweet goodbye, he thinks bitterly. There’s always something - an unresolved argument. An unanswered question. Something he didn’t mean to say. He bites his lip against a sob and runs a hand through his hair.

Stiles hears Derek’s footsteps.

When Derek meets Stiles, there’s something different about is gait.

“I’ve done it,” he says. His voice sounds thick.

The scowl is still carefully placed on his face, but his voice is hoarse and unguarded. His lips are glistening. His face is flushed. His eyes are red.

Stiles doesn’t know why that matters so much.

“Okay.” he says, softly.

Stiles follows his senses back to the lake, where the Pack and Scott have returned, to big their goodbyes to Laura. Erica cries and gives her cheek a kiss, Boyd stands silently, Isaac touches her hand with a troubled look on his face. When Scott goes to touch her, the lake glows. No one else probably sees it, except for Stiles since he’s a Naiad, but it scares the fuck out of him. Derek’s hands are in fists from seeing an outsider touch and grieve over his sister. Stiles empathizes.

Stiles touches the lake and wills it to preserve, stay healthy and deliver Laura to her destination. Water spirits are extremely good with changing the currents of the water. Back when people used to sail all the time, they would take water nymphs as slaves to control the currents.

 _Tell Laura I’m sorry._ He selfishly asks the lake. _Make sure she knows._

Sparing one last glance at her peaceful face, he add a final request.

_And make sure that she knows that Derek loves her._

Then he lets the lake move. It’s exhausting, he nearly gets thrown off-balance as he stands up. Everyone is staring at Stiles. It seems like a common thing for this Pack. They have no sense of dignity. They’re probably staring at his eyes, how they’ve changed color to pale blue.

“Speaking of eyes changing color,” he says to no one in particular, feeling nauseous, “Scott is your Alpha now. So now, you have to, like, do everything he says.”

Everyone looks like they’ve just bitten into a lemon.

“Not everything,” Scott says quickly, looking petulant.

Isaac lets out a very loud noise.

“We’re fucked. We are _so fucked_.” he says.


	6. Will You Paint for Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cadenza

Stiles dreams of eating colors. 

The most filling color is green. The next is blue. The next is a wild shade of purple. 

Pink, the color of love, makes him vomit red all over the floor.

***

"Stiles."

Stiles groans, stomach feeling sick.

" _Stiles._ "

"Let me die here." Stiles moans, eyes not open yet.

"Wake  _up_ , dumbass."

Stiles' eyes open, and he sees the blonde werewolf girl, the one with an exceptional set of boobs, glaring down at him. He forgot her name. Edna? Eleanor?

"What's your name again? Emily?" Stiles guesses.

She grins. "Erica. A.K.A the only female who's ever been in your bed."

Rude. Wait, bed? Stiles turns and looks at what he's been lying in and his stomach drops when he realizes it's the forest floor. He holds in a sob. He wishes he was home.

Erica looks sympathetic. "Figure of speech, Fish Boy."

Stiles gets to his feet and looks around, realizes he's in the exact same place they were yesterday, the one with the lake and the punching and... Laura. Stiles shivers and feels his mood sour. There's a fire and Scott, Boyd and Isaac sitting around it,  _eating_. 

Stiles literally cannot remember the last time he ate something. 

Scott brightens when he sees Stiles. "Hey man. Eggs! Boyd found a nest."

Stiles looks at Boyd, whose eyes are trained in the fire. Scott hands Stiles an egg, which they'd boiled with water from the lake, and starts peeling and eating it. "Thanks."

Scott seems to be the only chipper person here and he's pretty sure it's just a façade. 

"Where's Derek?" Stiles asks. 

No one answers. Everyone seems lost in their own head. Erica, even, seems to be staring off into the distance from where she sits.

***

Derek comes back from God knows where. They all decide to talk, figure out their next move. Of course, as werewolves are righteous assholes, Stiles isn't a part of the discussion, or at least - no one is listening to him, damn it.

"Guys--" he starts.

"You are not our alpha!" Derek yells, and Stiles is getting really sick of this.

"I'm sorry, but I am! Even if I don't want to be! What do you want me to do about it, kill myself?!" Scott seems hysterical.

Derek's silence says too much.

"Oh my God, you want me to fucking kill myself."

Stiles is going to kill Derek. 

"Guys, right now we're not getting  _anywhere_ and every minute, every fucking second, that we stay here, the soldiers are getting closer and closer." Isaac says, body closing in on himself.

"No, let's just get back to the fact that this asshole wants Scott to  _take his own_   _life--_ "

"No, Stiles." Boyd says, final. The first time Stiles has been acknowledged in the conversation, wow.

Boyd crosses his arms over his ridiculously broad chest and steps closer to everyone. "Everyone, just listen. We can bitch and wail as much as we want but the longer we stay in one place, the more chance we'll have of -- of getting  _killed by soldiers_ , so let's make this simple. We have to stick with Scott. He was made Alpha for a  _reason_ , I mean, it could have easily,  _easily_ been Derek, Laura's brother and closest beta and number two, but instead it was Scott, which means there has to be a really significant reason for that. Also, Derek, you  _know_ that even if we try to leave Scott, instinct will pull us back to him because a Pack always follows its Alpha. So why fight it?"

"Why fight it? Why  _fight_ it? Because we're putting our lives in the hands of a stupid kid! Laura  _knew_ what she was doing." Derek looks determined to fight.

"So then why don't we just do what Laura wanted? What was her plan?" Stiles asks. Derek glares at him.

"Stay out of this, creature." 

Wow, that stings.

Stiles crosses his arms. "Listen, Sourwolf. If Scott's officially part of your club, so am I. He's your Alpha and I'm, like, his brother so we've got this sort of Alpha-in-law thing going on or whatever, just -- you know when, like. If-- God, okay. Forget my rambling. I can be useful. Sort of like a Missionary."

Derek scowls. "I don't trust you."

"Oh, wow. I'm wounded. We've been through so much together and you don't trust me." Stiles deadpans. 

"That's not your problem anymore, Derek. What matters is if..." Boyd hesitates. "...if Scott trusts him."

"I trust him." Scott says, because he's the most loyal person on this earth.

"Well then I guess we just have to..." Erica shudders and it's like she's fighting every cell in her body to say this, "...trust his judgement."

Scott looks kind of pissed. "Okay, what was Laura's plan?"

Derek sighs, giving up. "We move to Canada."

***

" _That's_ her master plan?" Stiles gapes.

"What did you expect?" Derek asks, all the fight gone out of him.

"I don't know, rip Argent's heart out?!"

"Rip Argent's... Kid, you don't really expect to  _fight all this_ , do you?" Derek looks at him with disbelief.

"Well, yeah." Stiles says, feeling self-conscious with Derek's striking eyes staring into him. "We should fight. They're killing our kind. Our... our families."

Derek looks at Stiles,  _really_ looks at him, and Stiles wonders if he's struck a chord.

"Stiles." He says softly. The first time Derek's ever said his name. Where are Scott and the others? "We can't risk everything we've got for the possibility that we could _maybe_ get even close to the White House and assassinate the President. Can't you see how crazy that sounds?"

He does. He knows it's crazy. But he's been dreaming of it since he was eleven, and he's incredibly stubborn. "We have to do  _something_. We're cowards if we just flee."

And then Derek stills.

"What's--"

"Soldiers. We need to leave, now." 

"Where are Scott and the others?"

Derek smells the air. "Ahead. We need to catch up with them."

Derek starts running so Stiles copies him and tries to keep up with him, but Derek's incredibly fast. He can see Erica, Boyd, Isaac and Scott, now, walking at their own pace. "Hunters," Stiles says, out of breath when they all turn to look at him.

The werewolves whip their heads up in the direction where the sound is coming from, south. "Let's go." Isaac says, and starts running.

Stiles oddly doesn't feel like he's going to die, not this time. He turns to see the source of his confidence, the lake. A smile blooms across his face.

"We can take them." Stiles says.

"We can't  _take them_ , are you --  _are you crazy?!_ " he doesn't know who said that, because the sound of the marching of the Hunters is drowning out everything. 

Some of the group start running, so Stiles tells them to climb a tree, and then when the Hunters, thousands of soldiers in brown uniform are visible in the distance, Stiles chants in his head,  _flood, flood, flood, flood, flood_.

They are marching closer. 

 _Flood_ , he thinks,  _flood everything_.

Someone yells "Stiles!". A gun aims straight at him. The water burns in his veins. A sound of a gunshot. Then, water.

Gallons and gallons and gallons of water. Straight from the lake. Engulfing all the hunters, their tanks, the bullet that was about to enter Stiles' body, slowed down and stopped by the water. Stiles can feel it all around him, cool and fresh and in his hair and his eyes and he's not even wet, he knows he's not. He is a water spirit in water, he is home. He is exactly where he belongs. Nothing beats this feeling. His eyes feel all shades of blue and... and he can finally  _breathe_.

Stiles thanks the lake and lets its water return back to its body. Hunters litter the ground and Stiles tries not to think too hard about that. The floor is now muddy and there are puddles everywhere, tanks sunken into the ground and destroyed. 

Stiles takes off his shoes, they're muddy and it's gross, and starts walking towards the Pack, who had all done what he had said and are clinging to trees. They jump to the ground, one by one and Scott goes up to hug him. 

"You were shot, I was so scared. Don't ever do that again, Stiles. God." Scott's trembling.

"I'm fine." Stiles says. 

"Dude. That was  _awesome_." Isaac says. The others make noises of agreement.

Over Scott's shoulder, he shoots a smirk straight at Derek, who seems to be in awe. They lock eyes.

"I told you I could be useful." Stiles muses and Derek grins so wide, it hurts  _Stiles'_ mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry it took me like years to update!!! i have so many commitments going on in my life but hopefully i'll be more active now !!


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